...the rollercoaster has begun!
[Note- This blog took me like 5 tries to post because the internet is so spotty here. I wanted to upload a lot more pictures but it kept crashing so all you got is the huts and a lovely picture of the negeo]
So I'm here at Tubaniso, the Peace Corps training site just outside of Bamako, Mali. From my door of the hotel in Philly to my door in my Tubaniso hut was about 28 hours. Sorry it took me so long to post this blog, but the internet is super slow here and it took me like 3 different sessions to upload the pictures.
After sleeping the entire way to Paris, enjoying my last yogurts and toilets in Charles De Gualle, I got off in Mali to chaos. The airport is swarming with people- it is small- only one gate and baggage claim. Even if you see your bags you can't get to them because there are a zillion people who in between you and conveyor belt. There are also pestering men who try to grab your bags and expect you to pay them for carrying them for you. One man literally grabbed my bags right out of my hands and one of the Peace Corps staff got into a big argument with him. In the confusion, the message going through my head was "take your bags and get the out of here." Panicked and scared I successfully got out...
...but I didn't have all my bags. I realized at Tubaniso that I had left my computer (carry on) bag with all of my valuables on the security belt in the chaos and confusion. We arrived at the complex in pitch darkness. I could not get my bearing and was almost in tears thinking about my bags. One of the PCV (Peace Corps Volunteers) announced to us PCTs (trainees) that we would be doing a niego orientation. After a brief moment of thinking "What? An orientation at this hour?" I figured out that we would really be following the PCVs with flashlights to the 3/4 wall with a hole in the ground which was to be our bathroom/ bathing area. So apparently, this orientation was needed to get us through the night!
Meanwhile, the search for my bag was well underway. Luckily, the airport had called and had found it. So, in an old truck with a Malian driver and an experienced PCV, we drove the 45 minutes back to the Bamako airport, taking the backroads and seeing the impoverished outskirts of the city at night. We were at the airport forever, one person would send us to another person who would be clueless who would send us to another person who would put the responsibility on someone else to help us. So this is the developing world.
My heart finally settled when we saw my bag locked in the main office that night. Of course, nobody had the ability to open the office, but at least I saw my bag and it looked just as full as when it was last in my hands. The driver said he would return tomorrow to get it for me. Of course I expressed my thanks and how stupid and guilty I felt about the whole situation. "C'est mon travail". He needed to take a detour to pick up his overnight things so he could stay at Tubaniso. The PCV and I talked quite a bit about service as the driver proceeded to drive super fast as I observed donkeys in hanging out with the street with crowds of people hanging out outside broken buildings. Dozens of kids crowded around a single small TV, goats, sheep being shooed by couples on mopeds... When I returned with good news about my bag, the I was almost proud to make the other trainees jealous. They didn't get a night-time tour of underground Bamako by night. Sweet deal.
C'est chez moi!
So, I live in a hut, yes, with two other girls. With a tin roof that sounds like nails being hurled at it when the big rain came last night. But Tubaniso is still a very sheltered area. It is a mock-Malian village. We have our classes outside under grass hangers or in small huts, watching the toucans flying by or the freak giant centipedes crawling by your feet. We eat local food- beans, meats, fruits- (I think I've had a banana at every meal). All of our instructors and staff are Malian with some PCVs hanging around to help out. They are quite a fascinating people. Always so animated, and they love to laugh- at everything and very loudly.
The Peace Corps really has things under control though. We are busy every second of the day- culture classes, language, we even had a 2.5 hour class on diarrhea this morning. "Mr. D" as we call it, will be coming just around the corner, but then, I suppose, we will prepared.
I'm trying to work out but I'm so exhausted all of the time. There is a little running trail by the Niger river on our compound (quite beautiful- I'll bring my camera out there for you soon) and I've been running with some of the other PCTs. I just pray I can stay in good health while I'm here- we are all so run down that it is challenging to do so.
I'm enjoying my time here for the most part. The classes can be long and the frustration of not being able to communicate other than IM with my family one time since I've been here made me quite disappointed. Some of the PCTs are already questioning themselves, thinking of heading back to the States. As for me, I love you all and I miss you all terribly. Two years is along time. But the experience here is absolutely incredible- I'm so excited for what is to come. Next time I blog I will be out in a real Malian village living among the people, learning what to do. Wish me luck!
I wish you the best, wish you were here, wish I could fully explain everything about this place. Perfect weather, perfect sunsets, simple life.
I wish I could tell you all- describe in detail fun cultural nuances I am picking up on, the fun little conversations I have with the natives, all of the new friends I am making. And I apologize- my time is VERY limited right now, so I haven't been able to write any letters (which I will be doing soon, especially for those of you I haven't yet thanked for the touching parting words and gifts).
